April Fools' Day
by PurebloodPotterhead
Summary: Life after the end of the Second Wizarding War. A good happily-ever-after deserves some pranks.


Disclaimer: This literary work of fanfiction is produced and published for the personal, non–commercial enjoyment of myself and other Harry Potter fans. It is in no way sponsored, approved, endorsed by, or affiliated with J.K. Rowling or Warner Bros. or any of their associations. All characters and events in this novel are fictitious, but are based off of those of the _Harry Potter _series written by J.K. Rowling. Any similarity to actual events or persons living, dead, or undead may not be purely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any forms or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the writer or publisher. For information regarding publication permission, visit the PurebloodPotterhead on Fanfiction(dot)Net.

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><p>A deafening noise rang thunderously loud from the Great Hall early on an awful Monday morning. For most of the Hogwarts staff and student population, it served as a more destructive alarm clock than the usual school bell.<p>

A putrid, sulfurous stench stained the air as dark, green billowing smoke seemed to suddenly erupt in heavily globular, wispy forms from the tiled floor.

The students who were once insipidly consuming their average, dreary (Monday and 5–star) breakfast had recovered from their initial shock at the noise and odour and were now hectic struggling to get out of reach of the filthy, green smoke that was threatening to seep onto and upon them.

Meanwhile, the professors were attempting to work their magic endeavouring to get rid of all evidence of the commotion (along with Filch who seemed as if he could start a Third Wizarding War himself). However, this did not work so well as another round of Dungbombs and Stink Pellets bombarded the floor along with some Red Dragon firecrackers.

"_Bombarda Maxima_!"

A student had casted that Charm – no doubt, a particular 4th year – and it was definitely not meant to destroy the disparaging, violent fireworks for they Transfigured larger and larger until the firecrackers were no longer firecrackers, but shooting and showering comets of fire.

Professor McGonagall's shrill voice screeched above the chaotic racket the students were emitting after she had regained enough composure to do so. It wasn't quite difficult to spot and recognize the culprit behind this madness.

"James Sirius Potter! You get yourself down from the ceiling this instance _at once_ or I shall Floo your father and tell him–"

She never managed to finish her threat for by then, James' best friend and partner in crime, Hugo Weasley, swooped down on his Jetstream 408 hoverbroom and unleashed a deadly sequence of Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz–bangs (gotta thank Uncle George for giving them the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes goods for free) from which emerged a gigantic, fiery image of a majestic, golden lion triumphantly devouring a blotchy, green snake.

As if it weren't enough, Hugo then circled an incisive arc around the wizarding fireworks, precisely pointed his oak and dragon heartstring wand at them, and yelled "_Stupefy!_"

If possible, the fireworks exploded even more violently.

McGonagall didn't dare to try a Vanishing Spell on the Whiz–bangs for she knew that if she did, the incurable fireworks would then multiply by ten … _each_. The results would be horrifyingly disastrous.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if James had this intention on his mind for he dramatically posed a wizarding duel stance while skillfully and perfectly balancing on his first–class hoverbroom, jabbed his mahogany and griffin claw wand in a general direction of the fizzling fireworks, and shouted with a resonating, clear voice, "_Evanesco!_"

If at all possible, McGonagall's blood pressure skyrocketed even higher for her precious wizarding academy had been thrown into even more chaos with the quick increase of the blazing Whiz–bangs.

The jinxed animation of the snake-devouring lion received a more realistic movement as a result of James' spell and the lion seemed to be gnawing on the snake with more eager and rigor. The snake's blood spilled out into prolifically multihued fireworks that embellished the once bland Hogwarts ceiling.

The Slytherins seemed furious by this as had been planned by the notorious James Potter II who was lazily (and impressively) lounging around on his expensive, premium Sterling Silverwing hoverbroom while applying some extraordinary charm work (Isn't it ironic when the biggest charlatan at school is also the one with the highest academic marks?) to the entire anarchic scene stirring up 20 feet below him with a single wand movement.

Finally, he and Hugo slyly glanced at one and another and before anyone could comprehend what had happened, the dynamic duo incanted something incomprehensible and thespianly threw a black, sooty, grainy powder (that suspiciously resembled Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes product) at the disorganised throng of witches and wizards below them. A thick, dark, inky plume of smoke circled around and filled the air, blocking off all source of light, and throwing everyone into complete darkness.

Professor Flitwick pointed his ebony and unicorn hair wand above his head and yelled "_Lumos Maxima!_"

Strangely enough, his magical light did not penetrate the darkness. In fact, the light just seemed to be … glowing in front of him and that was all. Flitwick couldn't even see McGonagall approach him until he heard her strained voice.

"Filius, I think we have a problem on our hands and it's one I don't think we want to handle …"

!#$%^&*()

The two hoverbrooms dangerously turned a sharp left into the Hogwarts Entrance Hall passing an opulently dyed coppice sign that held the words "_Wotcher! We splendidly welcome you to the humble Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!_

One of the hoverbrooms stopped stridently. Its rider smirked under his jet–black, messy tresses and zoomed on his fine hoverbroom back to the sign. Reaching into his leather knapsack, the boy took out a pen, threw it back in, fished out an aerosol spray can, and used the metallic, cylindrical container to change the words on the wooden sign displayed in the Hogwarts Entrance Hall.

It now read "_Slytherfreaks not welcomed. Don't listen to old McGonagills about that. Your Daddy just rigged Sorty, so you all wouldn't shame your ancestors by being in the unfathomable house of Jigglypuffs._"

Boy, his Dad is really going to hear about this.

The boy turned around to face his companion, a redheaded, freckled, lanky lad, who was snickering at the shameful wooden sign now. The adolescents high–fived each other and zoomed away on their hoverbrooms.

As they neared the Gryffindor Tower, the ginger turned to his older friend and said, "You know what, James? That was the best April Fools' prank ever. I wonder, how 'bout doing something even more elaborate when we win that Quidditch Cup on Saturday?"

James laughed and rubbed his little friend's head affectionately.

"Hugo, I hope we could do that, but we got to find a way to hide the Marauders Map from my Dad first. Sure, the Invisibility Cloak is mine, but he's going to go bonkers when he finds out about the Map … when he finds out that I just stole it right off of his office desk."

Hugo's once joyful expression fell. _His_ Mum was going to be beyond incensed. Harry and Ginerva Potter were lenient and laidback compared to Hermione Weasley. His Dad, Ronald Weasley, would probably be publically dancing and announcing to the world the "good" his son had done, but not Hermione Weasley, never.

James seemed a bit alarmed at Hugo's forlorn expression. He smiled a bit and placed a gentle hand on Hugo's right shoulder as the boys continued to soar towards the nearing Gryffindor Tower on their hoverbrooms.

"Look Hugo, I've got an idea. It's probably not a very good one and by not good, I mean that our parents are all going to go mad, but we're in some very deep trouble right now, why not embrace it and cherish it? Who knows, we might even get a head start for Saturday's game! Now, I've got a plan. You see, we could start off first with …"

!#$%^&*()

Harry Potter sighed wearily and pushed his untidy, murky locks out of his eyes and stared down at the tremendous amount of paperwork seated before him on his large, mahogany office desk.

He carefully took a couple of sheets off each pile and proceeded to investigate and analyse each one.

Harry pushed the bridge of his glasses up against his face and scrutinised the words on the minted paper while muttering the words off the documents to himself.

"Seamus Finnigan … homophilic liaison with Dean Thomas … hmm … check … poisonous geranium …"

Suddenly, the fireplace behind him began to intensely crackle and burn. Harry knew what this meant. It meant a Floo message and if he wasn't correct, it was probably from McGonagall this time reporting once again, a transgression done by his inveterate son.

Harry didn't even had enough time to turn around and address the Deputy Headmistress before he had to wince at the ferocity and sting of her words as she lashed out. Harry caustically recalled his days at Hogwarts when he would listen to McGonagall shriek at her latest victim everyday for 7, no, 8 years of his life.

"Mr. Potter, your son has once again, caused terrible pandemonium upon Hogwarts! Never in my 94 years of life have I ever seen such misdemeanour and misconduct! Now don't you dare laugh at me; I don't give 3 flipping flobberworms about your father! At least his crimes were a bit decent compared to this! Shall I give you a look into a Pensieve of my account of today's horrific events?"

Harry sighed. Perhaps next time, a more vibrant Howler received from the unyielding Deputy Headmistress would brighten his day even for a little.

Wait, a Howler?

Harry closed and eyes and smirked amusingly. He swiftly took out a clean sheet of parchment and roughly dipped his phoenix feather quill into his liquid ink bottle and roughly scrawled out a couple of scratchy phrases.

Once Harry was done, he closed the letter, secured it with a sticky, red wax to a shadowy, viridian sachet, stamped the Potter crest on the front, pointed his holly and phoenix feather wand at the enveloped letter, muttered an inconceivable incantation, and gave it to his snowy owl, Hedwig II, to deliver to a certain someone.

Harry returned to his work and pondered for a moment. He may be a Gryffindor, but the Sorting Hat did notified him once in his existence that he had the talents of a Slytherin.

Harry chuckled and went back to his work. He hoped James liked Howlers, especially Red Howlers. After all, the boy had plenty of experience with women harshly lecturing him to last a lifetime.

At that moment, up in the dreamland, up in the paradise, up in the bliss that Hogwarts could've been, the Marauders (minus Wormtail) and Fred Weasley were laughing and embracing each other by the shoulders, wiping away tears of mirth, and nostalgically whispering, "April Fools!"

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><p>AN: I'm sure the grammar and general story plot are atrocious, but I assure you, this is work from back when I was an immature 8th grader. It isn't my best work and it'll never be, but I just hoped to add some spice to the Harry Potter universe because after watching the film adaptation of _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_, my heart needed some lifting.

And for those of you who don't know, I'm participating in NaNoWriMo (Yes, I'm insane.) currently and writing one-shots is my method of survival. To check out my NaNoWriMo novel, see my other story titled _Of Gentlemen and Pirates_.

And for that Seamus and Dean thing up there that I wrote, I implore you to take no offence by it. It sprouted from a dare. I love dares. Now just put 2 and 2 together and you get 5. Siriusly! You can so get a 5 from 2 and 2.

For McGonagall being 94 in this story, I did the math myself. I'm sure she would be 94 by the time J.S. Potter was a 4th year.

Also, the spells used in here didn't quite resulted the way you probably expected to and it's meant to be like that. In the _Harry Potter _series, it was mentioned that the fireworks used by the twins would multiply a lot if you casted the Vanishing Spell on them. I just added a few twists of my own. Hey, it's 2019 after all!

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><p>All rights reserved. <em>April Fools' Day<em> publishing rights © 2010 by C.L. Nguyen.


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